


company

by mylittlebigbluebox



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fluff without Plot, Plot What Plot, tommy shelby imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:47:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26613952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylittlebigbluebox/pseuds/mylittlebigbluebox
Summary: Reader is taking a bath when she gets a surprise visitor.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Reader, Tommy Shelby/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 81





	company

You're in the bath when his voice rings through your house, calling your name. For a split second, you consider making a dash for the robe you'd left laid upon your bed but the warmth of the copper tub and fireplace beside you is far too captivating, so, you settle on beckoning him to you, instead.

“I'm upstairs.”

Lounged back, feet perched upright and crossed on the edge of the tub, your eyes flutter open to find Tommy in your doorway. He's suited and booted, from the top of his flat cap to the bottom of his leather brogues, and he's leaning against the frame, an ankle crossed over another, one hand in his trouser pocket and the other holding a flickering cigarette to his mouth.

It's the bath that's left you flushed, you swear.

“What're you after, Tom? I'm busy,” Busy concentrating as you fight the urge to squirm under his always intense gaze. You'd been fighting him since you were children.

“I had a free moment.”

You scoff. The implication is clear.

“So, you were hoping to pop in for a quick shag and that I'd just be lying here waiting for you?”

He makes a poor attempt at hiding a small, brief smirk then, with a short drag of smoke, he replied, “Just fancied the company, s'all.”

 _Your_ company, too, it seemed. He wouldn't have minded the shag too, you knew that much, but it was never just sex with you two, it never had been and neither you nor Tommy were sure who that surprised more.

With a rush in the water, you're scrunched knees to chest at the front of the tub and you gesture to the space you've made behind yourself, “Well, you'd better make yourself useful, then.”

His hat and coat are divested first, joining your robe on the bed, and his shoes clatter on the floor as he toes them off with a grunt. He offers you his cigarette to take care of and you take it in proffered lips.

Striped bare, he gentle glides in behind you, one leg either side, you tucked safely in between and, without encouragement, his fingers knead into the knots accumulated in your tight shoulders.

“Good?” Tommy's simple question is met with a simpler groan for an answer.

Over your shoulder, you offer what's left of his cigarette back. He leans forward and takes it with his teeth.

Once he's satisfied he's got the worst of the lumps and bumps, his hands slide down your arms and with a soft tug, you're lying back against his firm chest, your hands grasping at his arms curled around your shoulders.

“You spend too long at that flaming sewing machine.” He's told you before and he'll tell you again.

“I'm a dressmaker, Tommy, what else am I meant to do?” You've replied before and you'll reply again.

Rather than argue, he kisses your temple and that is that.

You lie for a while. It's not the first time you've bathed together and soon the block of soap is passing between you, suds forming and rinsing away. You say nothing when he takes extra care in your breasts and his jaw twitches as your nails scratch into his always sensitive neck and scalp.

He knows what you're doing. You've barely rinsed the soap from his hair, when he's out of the bath and pulling you with him.

Your feet don't touch the floor. Body to body, Tommy's hands grasp at your arse and you hold on for dear life, ankles crossed behind his knees and arms around his neck. His tongue battles hot with yours.

You should care more about soaking the bed, but right now being wet is a blessing, in more ways than one.

Crashing to the mattress, Tommy balances his weight above you, not too heavy but swamping you all at once. His lips leave yours to dance at your neck, your collarbone, your chest. You groan as his teeth graze at a nipple and the favour is returned as you grasp lower and lower until you find _him._

A hand glides between your legs and his name leaves your mouth in the breath, “Thomas.”

His fingers slide generously, one then two and his lips at your ears, “Ready?”

You don't even pause for breath, “Fuck me, Tommy.”

And, oh, does he.

When all is said and done, you take a moment to come to. He's still inside you and his chest heaves against yours, breathing short puffs at your neck.

You sigh softly and break the sticky silence, “Yep. Definitely useful, you are.”

With a scoffed chuckle, he's back to the present. Bracing himself on an elbow, he lifts himself just enough to press a peck to your head and then he's rolling until he's beside you. He feels around briefly before you're both covered in a light blanket at the waist and you curl into his side.

He's stealing a cigarette from your bedside stash when you blink awake from a short, dozing sleep.

“What time is it?”

Tommy bats at the little chest of drawers before he finds your alarm clock and swings it around for you to see, “I'm gonna have to go, soon.”

Neither of you move, instead you just pout and wait for the inevitable.

Another quick kiss and he's dragging himself out from under the covers, leaving you cold. You watch as he pads the room, gathering his clothes as he goes, and with each garment, Thomas Shelby OBE reappears before your very eyes.

He's giving himself a once over when he asks, “You're still coming to Pol's do on Friday?”

“So long as you'll have me.”

He turns, and nears you again. Stretching across you, he reaches for his coat and flat cap on the far side of the bed. Nose to nose with you, he replies, “Always,” And another kiss passes.

His hat and coat on, he's almost gone when you call, “Oh, and Tommy?”

He's already sparking another cigarette as he turns back with a raised eyebrow.

You smirk, “Next time you want my company, buy me dinner first.”

With a wink, he's gone.

**Author's Note:**

> This is based around an OC I've been planning for a while but my head's been so wrapped in Reader Imagines recently that it turned into this. I've also never written anything for Peaky, nor have I ever written anything remotely smutty before so this is all kinds of new for me. Hope you enjoy.


End file.
